Sinful
by LilacsAndVelvet
Summary: He, unlike the Welsh hare, is impure.    Indirect WALESxPRUSSIA


_A small white hare made fruitful strides across the darkened grass, through small bushels of strawberries, and the endless rows of potted herbs, and approached the back porch which was occupied by a small man. The heartbeats of both increased steadily, one from happiness, one from complete fear.  
>The man smiled, and he began to look around, looking for something long to feed the large rabbit, he wasn't going to get too close. With a quiet 'Ahh~' a tall sunflower was pulled from the ground near the gate of a wired fence. Within a few seconds, the flower, absolutely soaked in sunshine, was centimetres away from a pink nose.<em>

A nervous bite was taken; the furiously beating heart was small enough to take in the man's pure kindness.

It took no heed in prior fear, and nibbled again.

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><p><em><strong>Wer zu Lebzeit gut auf Erden,<strong>_

_**Wird nach dem Tod ein Engel werden,**_

_**Den Blick gen Himmel fragst do dann,**_

_**Warum man sie nicht sehen kann?**_

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><p>1961, August 13. The Berlin wall was erected, separating two halves of one future; two halves of one left over family, one family of two great empires. The West was ripped apart from the East, tearing the bond of two brothers in the process.<br>The West was to do what they will; all the while the east was now governed by Russia, the Soviet Union.

Tensions were on the rise, the pressure was binding.  
>It was a bitter chill, and I swear I saw a flake of snow.<p>

The hare returned that winter, only to find the glorious yard was, too, covered in the white that buried the bushes, and trees of the forest. Again, the small heart began to rapidly beat; the house was shrouded in an unexplained smog of ominous atmosphere.

Under a delicate pine tree lay a man, a man different than the one that normally quelled his hunger. This man, he was broken.  
>As if curiosity had replaced the logic in the petite brain, it had hopped over to the fallen mystery, not seeing the blacking frostbite, or browning bruises littered across beautiful, pale skin.<p>

The hare huddled against the man's neck, momentarily pausing the body's tremors. It murmured quietly.

_"..Engel."_

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><p><em><strong>Erst wenn die Wolken schlafengehn,<strong>_

_**Kann man uns am Himmel sehn,**_

_**Wir haben Angst und sind allein,**_

_**Gott weiß ich will kein Engel sein.**_

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><p><em><strong><strong>_1973, September 13. Group of people have fled to West Germany. Most of the group was retrieved, and slaughtered on spot, in front of the eyes of the town. It is hard to think about such things, especially about my people.

I am hoping Ludwig is okay, alone like that. I have, quite honestly, tried to feel his heartbeat, something of some sort. Apparently twins have something like that, maybe that's why I can't tell.

Internally, I am numb. I wouldn't be able to feel it anyway.

He is too rough.  
><strong>I <strong>am stronger.

___One particular evening, the Hare wondered back into the yard; it was fenced in, surrounding at least 100 more feet east of the initial house itself. It hopped forward to a figure standing in front on the yard, the man from before stood closed in, talking and gasping wildly to the other. They both had red faces, but a large rabbit wouldn't notice such a thing. It was just hungry._

It turned in its tracks, making way back to the forest.  
>The man had dropped to the ground, and seized as the other shouted.<p>

He was just hungry.

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><p><em><strong>Sie leben hinterm Sonnenschein,<strong>_

_**Getrennt von uns unendlich weit,**_

_**Sie müssen sich an Sterne krallen,**_

_**Damit sie nicht vom Himmel fallen.**_

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><p>1976, November 19. The Soviets are completely trashing the land that is rightfully mine.<br>Just like Ivan, they are commanded by General Winter, and him alone. It has gotten colder, and I am beginning to think my blood is starting to freeze over, my body aches terribly.

I am not proud of what I have done, and the tears inside, and out, are reminders that I am doing something right. I am fighting, not for myself, but for my brother; for my friends.

The sky is nearly dark half of the day, and now, it's hard to see through the white blanket that drops.

I shiver.

I am nauseous.

By now, it seems the hare has made some connection to the home it often returns to. Whether it may be the shade, or a source of heat, it always returns. Yet, as it softly pads through the snow, it is completely unaware of the crimson eyes, the broken silverette watching from the window. He recognizes the hare, and as his mind wares away, he wonders where it's from, why it returns, and what kind of breed it is.  
>This was not the place for a rabbit, and he was well aware of the beast within the house was far more dangerous than any Russian blizzard, or Soviet army that has probably stomped through the forests it resides in.<p>

The watcher makes a promise to himself, to bring the rabbit somewhere else.  
>Any, and all purity here died a long time ago.<p>

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><p><em><strong>Gott weiß ich will kein Engel sein<strong>_

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><p><span>1989, November 9. ..He is angry<span>.

_It has been many years, and to live that long, for a hare, is phenomenal.  
>Though it had not struggled so far, in any part of its life, this would be the final time the watcher, and the rabbit would meet.<em>

It's didn't understand the fight that was brewing, and the loud noises emitted from the figures.  
>It didn't hear the animal stepping behind , it didn't feel the initial shock of being gripped between sharp canine teeth. The grounded animal immediately began to kick, for the moment being, it looked away from the figures.<p>

The bodies of murdered Soviet soldiers were scattered around the yard, trails of blood painting footsteps leading to a brawl.

On the ground, was the large Russian, blood marring his tan coat, a sadistic smile on his face. Standing above him was the watcher, his read eyes gleamed with wrath, a deadly sin on its own. His balance faltered, and he stumbled to the rabbit, ready to run to meet his brother as the wall fell.

The fox had dropped the rabbit, whose fur was a clean, snow white, was now stained red.  
>It sat in the snow, kicking at nothing, its eyes squeezed shut, and it nose flaring was beginning to slow.<br>When he sauntered over to it, he picked it up, running the best he could with swollen legs, and multiple contusions.

As he was approaching the decorated wall, which was surrounded by people, his mind blacked, and he stumbled and fell.  
>The<p>

_The **Welsh **__hare kicked softly on impact._

Even when he was beyond physical exhaustion, mental fatigue, and numb to the point of questioning how he was alive, he fought. When the rabbit is caught by the fox, it keeps kicking. Not to escape an unquestionable fate, but to relieve the urge to succumb to the foe.

But he, unlike the hare, is impure and terribly sinful.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Gott weiß nich<strong>_t

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><p>~AUTHOR'S NOTE; This is actually an RP with Ask-Wales on Deviantart!<br>This is actually being re-written because I feel a lot of people will get confused.  
>She originally wrote her parts in Swedish-German (Gwerdish?) and I translated.<br>My Swedish is terrible, so If you do get confused, my fault! Please point out what confused you.

This is indirect WALESxPRUSSIA.

It is 6am, and i've yet to sleep, spelling errors will be fixed. Thank you!

Engel-Rammstein


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